


Domestics and Ice Cream

by kalika_999



Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [77]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Cravings, HYDRA Husbands, Insecurity, Light Angst, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 19:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19933042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: Missing ice cream may not be the only issue Jack has to deal with.





	Domestics and Ice Cream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hydra_Trash_Gal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hydra_Trash_Gal/gifts).



> This is a culmination of listening to you talk about your a/b/o and us watching Point Blank together. Now I will go dormant and not mention mpreg for about a year probably lol 💙

He couldn’t find any cookie dough ice cream in the house.

Jack has checked the dual fridge and freezer, the backup chest freezer in the garage and even the garbage just in case Bucky had shown up to check up on Brock without telling him it was a check up and raided their food supply without him knowing it because more and more often Brock has been forgetting things like their friends dropping in. But nope, no cookie dough ice cream containers sitting in the bin.

“What ya mean there ain’t no ice cream?” Brock asks from where he’s standing near the island, his hands immediately go to his stomach, palms roaming over the loose fabric of Jack’s worn tank top. “Weren’t they on the list? Did ya forget the list again?”

Jack makes a disgruntled noise, opening the door to the freezer one more time to see if any ice cream had suddenly appeared.

“Yeah they were, I didn’t forget it after last time. I even bought a couple extra pints on top of what you asked for because I know sometimes you like the one with the mint and that other one with the brownie pieces in them.” He closed the door and turned back to face Brock. “I’ve been trying to keep on top of your ice cream phenomenon so it’s available at all hours of the day, frankly I’m a little worried an associate for Ben and Jerry’s will show at our house sometime soon to ask us to be in a commercial and I don’t need that.”

Jack is pretty sure Brock is trying to glare him into submission as per usual, but even if Brock’s glares had ever worked on him they certainly didn’t now, seven months pregnant, especially wearing only an oversized, stretched out tank top and black boxers.

“Then where are they?” Brock inquired, staring at him expectantly.  


If Jack was a little more awake, if he hadn’t just gotten back from a mission out in Mexico and had been avoiding getting shot in the head, if it hadn’t been almost three in the morning, he might have noticed how Brock’s voice cracks a little.

But he doesn’t, so without thinking he snaps back.

“Brock, I don’t know, I’m not the one who’s eating two pints of ice cream each day. Maybe you had it and forgot like that time with the cheesecake.”

He regrets it almost immediately when he looks up from trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes to see Brock’s lips pursed in a way that means he is trying not to cry and not really succeeding. (Never did he think he’d ever see that kind of reaction out of him and nowadays he feels awful when he does.)

“Oh fuck.” Jack sighs, suddenly remembering that while he is tired, he’s at least been able to sleep while Brock really hasn’t been for the last few months and fighting with _their_ kid about it. “Brock, hey- ” he starts, but before he can start in on any apologies, Brock’s already got his back turned to him and stalks out the kitchen.

Jack gives himself a minute to remember how excited he was for bed, before he had gotten home and been intercepted in the kitchen by Brock demanding ice cream. He rubs his hand over his scar out of habit, before sighing heavily and grabs the keys back off the counter. There's a convenience store a couple blocks away, they should have ice cream, actually they should have doubles of anything Brock’s bought because they’ve been their best customers in the past few months. Overpriced to hell, but it was what it was.  


By the time he’s back in the apartment, it’s past three but creeping to four and he’s become the walking undead. If Brock wants to eat all his ice cream in bed next to him and he wakes up with his hand in an empty, sticky container, he’s willing to deal with that. It would be a small price to pay in order to calm his mate down and bring peace to the house again.

But Brock isn’t in the kitchen, and he isn’t in the living room, or in the bedroom. Jack finally finds him in the partially finished baby’s room, seated in the rocking chair Sam had given them and flipping through what looks like a very old family heirloom children’s book out from a box of things Brock’s Nonna had sent them.

It would be a nice sight, had it not been early in the fucking morning while Jack was running on fumes, and had Brock not been very obviously crying while he was out.

“Hey.” Jack says softly from where he’s leaning against the door frame, and then again a little bit louder to get Brock to actually look up from the book. “I got you some ice cream to tie you over until I can hit the supermarket tomorrow, let’s go to bed.”

Brock shakes his head, and goes back to flipping through what Jack can clearly see now is something completely in Italian and probably to spite him so he can’t join in.

Jack takes a second to not take the whole thing personally and remember that Brock is the love of his life and currently doing the very important job of growing their child. Being difficult was in his blood, being difficult _and_ pregnant, well..Jack just had to bite the bullet.

“No to the ice cream or no to bed?”

Brock shook his head again, refusing to look up. “No to both.”

“Both? Brock, the sun’s going to be rising soon.” Jack pleads. “Come on, you can eat the ice cream in bed, ignore the last time when I said you weren’t allowed anymore, let’s just go.”

Brock shakes his head again, and Jack resisted the urge to leave him there to sulk.

“I don’t want the ice cream no more.” Brock informs him, still acting as if he were intrigued by the same page he’s been on since Jack showed up. “And I won’t be able to sleep much anyways, like normal.”

That seemed to be all he wanted to say on the subject, because Jack stared at him for a solid minute from the doorway waiting for add ons, but nothing else came.

The sleep thing might be true, but Brock still normally made an attempt in trying to, though he was a complete liar about the ice cream comment.

Jack shook his head, took a second to wonder when his life had gotten to this point, and if he was ever going to get a restful sleep, before carefully maneuvering around a couple pots of paint and a few pieces of the half constructed crib. He knelt down gingerly before Brock’s legs, and tried his best not to go off balance and fall sideways in the process.

“Okay then.” He let out carefully, his hand gently rubbing against Brock’s calf to get him to look his way again. “What’s wrong?”

Brock didn’t look up from his book, but he did pull his leg away from his hand. “Nothin’s wrong. I know you wanna sleep, so go get yer sleep.”

He did really, really want to go to sleep, but he just spent most of the day without Brock near him, nagging him to get him ice cream or taco bell or some other craving, kicking him while he was napping next to him on the couch and having his hand yanked over at every opportune moment their baby moved. He couldn’t sleep without his omega there next to him to drape his arm around and drift off with his hand resting protectively on Brock’s swollen belly knowing they were both he and the baby was safe.  


“Hey, come on.” He reaches out to take Brock’s hand with his own. “Tell me what’s wrong, I’ll fix it and then we can both go to bed.”

It seemed simple to Jack. Maybe Brock wanted a different type of ice cream, or wanted him to stay awake with him until sleep finally managed to hit. Whatever it was, Jack could figure it out and everything would be settled. Maybe, if he was lucky, they would even get to sleep before the sun rose.

Brock didn’t seem to agree, pulling his hand away from Jack’s and finally snapping the stupid book shut.

“You can’t fix the fact that I’m gettin' fat.” He says waspishly, still avoiding Jack’s gaze.

Jack realized he didn’t have much of a choice and that they were doing this now. He’d been wondering when the other shoe would drop. Brock had taken such pride in his body before, had been undeniably proud of how he looked. And he probably had gained a little more weight than average throughout the pregnancy, though Jack would rather shoot himself in the mouth than say that out loud to anyone. Still, it didn’t matter.

He was clearly taking too long to come up with an answer, because Brock kicks him hard enough to hurt.

“Say somethin’.” He demands.

Jack rubs at his side. He opens his mouth for a second, but then closes it again because he isn’t quite sure about how to go about this. He can’t stop thinking about when they were younger and he designated as an alpha. He grew taller and stronger while Brock lingered and could only watch; the longer he did, the quieter he was and feeling self conscious of all the slight curves along his body. Jack never noticed it, the way Brock obsessed, to him he looked normal, like any other day, but it still didn’t stop Brock from pestering him about whether he noticed if he gained weight or not.

Finally, one day in the early summer, when he was on the verge of a pre-rut and the aggression was tripping onto every nerve, he snapped out a yes. Brock had stormed out of his house and refused to speak to anyone until Fall. Jack is pretty sure that if he said something wrong again, something similar would unfold and he really wasn’t willing to deal with that.  


“Well,” He started, pondering a little bit still. “Firstly, you aren’t fat.” Brock snorts with a sneer across his face, but Jack rolls his eyes at him and gestures for him to stop. “I know, this is all really different. This is the first time you’ve been pregnant, your body doesn’t want to listen to you and you’ve taken care of it like your very own temple, hell.. _I_ worship your body like a temple, you know that. But I promise you, sweetheart, it’s fine. You should be eating things that don’t make you want to throw up in the toilet, even if those things are various tubs of ice cream. You eat a balanced breakfast, lunch and dinner everyday, we figured out what’s not coming back up. It’s okay.”

“I can’t go out an’ do anythin’ bein’ like this,” Brock weakly murmurs. “I can’t go out on missions, I can’t move quickly- it’s like I gotta waddle when I try to, I can’t even sleep like a normal fuckin’ person no more.”

“Brock- ”

“I know, this is supposta be somethin’ amazin’, feel blessed and shit, blah blah blah.” Brock complained, his hands fanning out in mocking jazz hands fashion. “But I’m so fuckin’ tired of bein’ fat and sittin’ around watchin’ the grass grow outside, or watchin’ terrible daytime TV while you get to go out on missions. Jack, I miss shootin’ a gun. I miss fightin’. Fury ain’t even lettin’ me sit at a desk and sit in on meetin’s no more, how the hell is _that_ fair?!”

“Brock, you know why you can’t do any- ”

“And,” Brock continues, ignoring any attempt Jack makes at interrupting him. It’s probably for the best because he isn’t even sure what he would say after the obvious. “And, Nonna keeps callin’ me and askin’ what I ate and how it ain’t enough for a healthy baby, that I need more pasta in my diet. I love her but she’s makin’ me wanna climb the damn walls, I swear. Then she’s askin’ when do I want ‘er to come fly out ‘ere. We ain’t even cleaned out that other spare room! She ain’t allowed ‘til that shit gets cleared and who the fuck knows when that is!”

Brock trails off at the end, seemingly running out of things to say, but that’s fine because he has already said more than he has in the past two months. He had been taking all the changes that came with pregnancy with a kind of level headedness that Jack had never seen from him and was frankly surprising. He knew pregnant people acted different when all the hormones shot up but he knew Brock, he had shit to say and he’d say it. Jack had been getting worried.

He’d been on eggshells expecting Brock to snap that week where everything had made him cry, up to and including particularly cute cat videos on Youtube, but if it took ice cream and Jack being stupid about what he said for Brock to stop pretending everything was okay, then so be it.

“Brock, you’re fine.” Jack says, trying to sound calming and reassuring. He was afraid he just sounded tired, but he was channeling that alpha part of him best he could. “The doctor said you’re healthy, the baby is growing and everything is on track, and in just a few weeks we’re going to get to hold him or her and this will all be a distant memory.”

It was a mantra they were carrying the past while as Brock ran through the motions of assessing what he could eat or not eat and puking away in the toilet when it really didn’t agree with him. Jack would sit with him whenever he was home and the early ultrasound photos would hang around in every room to remind him this was all worth it.

Jack shuffled in closer, stretching his legs out to bracket the rocking chair, his hand softly resting against Brock’s bump. No matter how many times he did it, he was still amazed that there was a living, breathing being in there, and it was unbelievable to think that soon they would actually have a baby. One that would have all the best things about Brock and Jack combined. Jesus Christ, they really needed to finish setting up the baby’s room, especially the crib.

That was also on top of what Brock was sacrificing for them to have a baby in the first place, that was something unexpected. Brock loved his job, loved missions and being on top of things, shouting orders and making sure everyone was going to make it back it. It made him feel good, accomplished. If the positions were reversed and he felt the same way about it all, Jack didn’t know if he would be able to do it, but Brock had always been the stronger one.

“Just a few more weeks.” Jack says softly, rubbing light circles along Brock’s stomach in an effort to calm the baby down who was taking it upon themselves to start kicking up a storm. It must have sensed him there and he avoided the frown he knew Brock was giving him for encouraging them.

“And then a lot of pain as they cut me the hell open.” Brock says, but his lips are starting to quirk up a little bit and he looks less like crying.

“But then we have a baby.”

Brock was full on smiling now, and so was Jack.

“Yeah, sure.” He whispers. “But then we have a baby.”

They sat there, two dumb idiots in a partially completed nursery at four in the morning, and it shouldn’t have felt like something normal, but it was something just _them_. 

“Hey, ya did kinda fix it.” Brock observes, glancing down at this belly with a hand resting against Jack’s. “And ya calmed the baby down too.”

“Hey, I’m getting good at it.” Jack smirks. “Maybe I really am a decent alpha.”

Brock snorts with a shake of his head. “The kid ain’t out yet, don’t get too excited there. And what about the spare room with all those weights and shit? Yer gonna need the guys to help ya move all that out into the garage.”

“This weekend, I promise.” Jack says quickly, standing up and reaching down to help pull Brock up. “I already called Buck, and Steve. Thor’s in town, I got him too. We’ll get it cleared up in no time.”

Brock makes a face because Jack is well aware their plans don’t always go as hoped, it’s how they have a baby coming soon in the first place, but he stays silent. Jack leads him out of the nursery and their fingers tangle together on their way to the bedroom. Hope kicks in that he’s finally going to get that sleep he so badly needs when he sees the bed but that’s also when Brock suddenly stops moving. Jack forces himself not to groan out loud and deflate a little.

“What’s wrong?” He wonders, turning Brock’s way and trying to sound calm. He really hopes he doesn’t have to head out to the convenience store again for anything.

“The ice cream..” Brock tilts his head back towards the hall. “You left the ice cream meltin’ in the baby’s room.”

“Shit. Let me go throw it in the freezer, you get into bed.”

Brock’s already climbing into the nest of blankets he has, throwing him a look. “Don’t be forgettin’ ya said I could have it here, I’ll still drink it.”  


Jack can’t help the grin he has as he heads back to the nursery. “You’re disgusting.”

“And yer the dumbass that’s stuck with me, so tough tits.” He shouts back.

He hums in agreement, picking up the plastic bag with the ice cream. “I love you too.” 


End file.
